The Problem of Relativity

[Thanks to Ilmari Karonen]

How is it that people learn to not to be able to live without something, when previously, they had been fine without it?

How is that we, who grovel around on this earth and live caked in mud, are created in the image of God? How do we ascribe greatness? Here’s a progression of history problem – Hippocrates was a great physician, but even a modern nurse knows more than he ever did.

Is it really a good thing that time heals all wounds? Doesn’t this just mean that we become forgetful and more insensitive, that we don’t care as much? Or do we care too much at the beginning?

Is there something truly ugly about the modern world? When I’m going down a highway through nice scenery, and then see a billboard disrupt that scenery, I resent all these modern accoutrements. But then I compare this to the past, that in the past I might have also been going down a road and seen some disgusting cottage intrude on nature. But see, if I saw the cottage now, I’d think, “How lovely! It fits in perfectly with the scenery!” But how do I know that I’d say the same if the cottage was the most modern type of architecture at the time I was living? Perhaps I’d think it was as ugly as I think the billboard now. So is modernity truly ugly, or is it all relative?

I read in Untouchables (by Narendra Jadhav) that the women of this culture are satisfied with their husbands if they don’t drink and don’t beat them. (In the book, when the author’s mother [Sonu] is asked about her husband, she said he was a good husband because of these things, not for any other reason.) So my question is, should we really expect so little from our husbands? (But my real question is – Should we really expect so little from anything [considering that husbands are so important]?) The sad and strange thing is that I think this low standard might have actually kept Sonu from consciously and fully appreciating her husband. See, her husband was an outstanding man, in my opinion. Except for having a bad temper, he was morally upright, idealistic, passionate, able to value learning and education even though he did not come from a culture or background that did (this is huge, because it shows that he could think for himself and think rightly), he deeply loved his wife and would have no other, worked hard, was ambitious and very clever, was a wise father – in essence, you could say he was the perfect man. And it’s so strange to me – when Sonu was asked about him, she said she was happy with him because he didn’t drink and didn’t beat her. Now Sonu deeply loved her husband as well, and I’m sure she appreciated him in many ways, and yet ... is this all she could say about him? Is this why she was happy with him? So what is this question all about? – standards. What should our standards be, and how does this affect our expectations and ability to realize joy and appreciation? Are we hampered by our standards, unbeknowest to us?

What should be our true level of thankfulness? Let’s do a thought experiment -- Imagine 2 scenarios – in one, you’re on a desert island, thrust together with some stranger (of the opposite sex), and made to stay there for years and years. Not that the years and years matter, because I’m sure it’d only be a matter of time before the two of you came to deeply love one another. And the second – that, with the help of a supercomputer that contained all the data on everyone on the planet (and let’s say this computer was so good it could even figure in chemistry), the 7 billion people on this planet were sorted through for you and your absolute, highest perfect match was found. So then whom do you think you’d love more? But more importantly, whom would you appreciate more? The one that, through suffering and a common experience you come to love deeply and who becomes precious to you, or the one where fireworks go off every time you see them, knowing that this is the one for you, that you were made for each other and there could be no possible better match? So you see, it’s all relative. It’s not the love itself that produces appreciation, but the circumstances under which that love comes into being.

A researcher/experimenter became astonished at the amazingness of a blank sheet of paper (after taking drugs). Then how are we to establish what’s reasonable and what’s unreasonable? How can we really say that it’s unreasonable to be astonished at the amazingness of a blank sheet of paper? (Gurdjieff)

the relativity of even suffering and exhaustion – I remember reading about a Cambodian woman (Somaly Mam, in The Road of Lost Innocence) for whom constantly working without any breaks was considered normal and not a harsh life. Her French coworkers could not believe her work ethic. This leads to the question – how can we really know whether we’re spoiled or not? And this leads to the question of enjoyment of earthly pleasures vs mortification.

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